The Future's A Mystery
by mrscarstairs
Summary: A collection of mini-fics from The Infernal Devices. Be warned for spoilers. Various pairings.
1. Literature Debates

**A/N: For those needing more information, this basically going to be a collection of what I call "mini-fics" for The Infernal Devices, because they are longer than an average drabble, but shorter than most fanfics. Most will take place after the events of Clockwork Princess, so be warned for spoilers. They will consist of all sorts of pairings. You may suggest ideas/pairings if you want me to write anything specific! In fact, these first 4 were written at the suggestion of some of my followers on tumblr (mrscarstairs). I will let you know ahead of time which pairing it is, and when it takes place. Hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**This is Will/Tessa, a few years after Clockwork Princess**

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"'Her life was active, cheerful, useful; but my poor history pervaded it all.'

'I was that child, my father. I was not half so good, but in my love that was I.'"

Tessa was interrupted suddenly by a resonating voice that invaded the area around her, stopping her mid-sentence.

"_A Tale of Two Cities_? Really, Tess? I thought we agreed that we would introduce our child to decent literature before clogging his mind with torrid fantasies of the lovesick Carton."

Tessa rested her book on her lap, torn and dirty and well-worn, and turned to glance at her husband, who was leaning lazily against the door frame, blue eyes sparkling in the dimly lit library. The shadows from the candlelight only illuminated half of his face, reminding her of how he always appeared to be made of shadows and moonlight, balancing out the contours of his skin. She hastily fixed him with a look, though she knew by the twitch of his lips at the corners that he was prepared for her obvious response.

"I thought you rather enjoyed this novel. After all, did I not teach you not to scorn it? You told me there was too much despair for it to be not to your liking." Tessa shifted in her seat, trying her best to find a comfortable resting spot with the challenge of a large stomach. She was not due for another month, but Will was increasingly protective of her as the days wore on, and she could tell he was trying not to overwhelm her now as he took a slight step forward, eyes fixed on her stomach.

"All valid points, I assure you, but if you read that to him now, then he may come out of the womb quoting Dickens as his first words, and I do not know what that would do to my poor heart."

Will was by her side then, hand reaching out to rest against her belly. His face lit up with a joy only a soon-to-be-father could possess at the feel of his child kicking against his hand.

Tessa grinned. "He is kicking," she explained with a turn of her nose, "because he is angry you interrupted me. He was enjoying the story."

Will sighed and shook his head, though his expression, an odd mix of love and shock, had not yet faded. "When we have our second child, I am taking over the literature hours," he stated, crossing his arms and nodding resolutely. Tessa gasped, unsure of how to respond to such a statement.

"A second child?" she muttered, unable to contain her surprise. "Well, how many do you expect us to have?"

Will shrugged, leaning onto his knees so he could better feel her stomach. "Oh, I plan to have a small army, Tess. You never know when you may need a large group of Shadowhunter children at your disposal."

She wanted to roll her eyes, or whack him with the book, but at the look upon his face, as if their child was his most treasured beauty in the world, she did neither of those things. She simply laughed.


	2. Broadening the Horizons

**A/N: This is Jem/Tessa, modern day :)**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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Jem hovered over the laptop, eyes still alight with curiosity as he scanned the many browsers and gadgets associated with such an invention. He was aware of their existence before using one, however when he was a Silent Brother, he was never granted access to one, so he had never learned how they worked.

Another window popped up, displaying a message clearly in blood red font, "YOU'VE WON! CLICK HERE TO SEE YOUR PRIZE!"

For a moment, he was tempted, but then he remembered Tessa calling windows like these "spam", and not to click them for fear of viruses, which sounded dreadful and unpleasant. He clicked the little red x and watched the window disappear, though where to he was not sure.

"You have been in front of that screen for hours, Jem," Tessa said, a slight catch in her tone. He could not see her, as her voice had appeared from somewhere behind him, but he felt her presence as she stepped closer to him and placed her hands on his shoulders. "You really aught to close it and walk away for a while. You will hurt your eyesight if you don't."

Jem sighed and leaned back against the chair, allowing Tessa's touch to send shivers down his spine. "There are so many dangers to using these things that I do not see the point in using them at all," he admitted, running his hands absently over the keys. "I am trying to find out some information for Magnus, but he has not given me much specification, and I feel like a mouse in a maze with no finish line."

Tessa laughed and leaned down so her nose brushed the area of skin just below his ear. He tensed at the feel of her breath when she replied, in a low voice, "Then shut it down for the night. You can always come back to it."

"But—"

"If you do not, then I will only distract you until you cannot concentrate anymore." Tessa displayed this tactic by running her fingers through his hair and pressing her lips against his neck. He chuckled and tried to pull away, but she held on fast, a smile gracing her face.

Jem reached out and snapped the laptop shut, his thoughts not only wondering how the thing worked, but also how it could ever take his mind off the beauty standing behind him, a miracle all her own. All modern technology forgotten, Jem pulled her down and met her lips halfway, desperate to remind her that while he did not know much about these new inventions, he had learned some things along the way.

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**A/N: As I mentioned before, feel free to suggest pairings or prompts, and don't forget to review! Thanks!**


	3. How Things have Changed

**A/N: This is Nate and Tessa, pre-Clockwork Angel**

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Tessa could not think of a time when Nate had not periodically tricked her. He had always been fond of trickery, and his pranks had only escalated the older they became. She was sure that it was because he felt that with age came a better stability against more intense jests.

It was no different now, and at the turn of the year, Tessa could not help but stare warily at the plate of unidentifiable food in front of her. She brushed her fingers against the tips of her hair, braided into two parts, and lifted an eyebrow at her brother.

"Nate, what kind of supper is this?" she asked, giving him a knowing look. Nathaniel only smiled and shrugged, waving a hand absently in the direction of the kitchen.

"Aunt Harriet helped me cook. Just eat, Tessie. You need to keep up your strength."

In many years, Tessa would look back on that moment and internally slap herself for her foolishness. It was not as if Nate was trying to conceal his trickery, but Tessa believed him nevertheless, and she dipped her spoon into the dark muck on her plate.

Her tongue immediately exploded with a bitter taste that offended her senses and caused her to gag for multiple minutes. Tessa gasped and made a face, reaching blindly for her water glass. Just as her fingers grazed the cup, Nate's hand seized her drink and tore it away from her grasp, laughter bubbling out of his throat.

Tessa sprang from her chair, knocking it over in her rage. "Nate!" she exclaimed, trying to ignore the horrible taste in her mouth. "Was that chocolate you put it my food? You know how much I hate it!"

Nate only giggled and ran from the room, water glass still locked in his hand. Tessa tore after him, unable to help chuckling herself. He meant it all in good heart, and no matter how he had changed since then, Tessa would never forget when his tricks were only juvenile.


	4. Alive Again

**A/N: This is Jem/Tessa, modern day**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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She had planned for their evening out to be a special, methodically planned out time together, but apparently the Fates had a different idea in mind.

When Tessa and Jem left the restaurant, hand in hand and walking through the crowded streets of London, Tessa's focus was not on the passerby chatting on cell phones, or honking taxis and double-decker buses speeding through the throngs of traffic. It was on her love, whose eyes were still taking in the sights around him, as if he were afraid that any minute he would be whisked away, back into the darkness that had surrounded him for so long. She simply squeezed his hand, telling him through touch that she was real, and he was hers, and he was not going anywhere.

Tessa saw the smile appear on his face, slow at first, but gradually widening until he pulled at her hand and they stumbled into an alleyway, eerily darkening with the night sky. He pressed her up against the wall and kissed her hard, and through the shock she managed to respond fervently, grasping at his shoulders, and then his belt buckle, and then back up to his face.

When they finally pulled away, Jem laughed under his breath and whispered against her mouth, "Sorry, Tessa, I don't know why I did that. I did not mean to—"

"I think you did," she stated, running her fingers along his jaw. He was so close to her, his eyes watching her every movement, lashes sending shadows cascading along his cheeks.

It was spontaneous moments like these that always made Tessa feel luckier than ever to have Jem in her life, a man who still did not know what lines were all right to cross and what were not, but who sometimes did not seem to care, and would, in this instance for example, kiss her passionately against a brick wall for no reason whatsoever. She could memorize every detail of his face and body, but it would not matter; he was ever changing, like the water of the Thames, and with his own transformation he brought out a side of her she had buried years ago, yanking them to the surface and bringing her to life once again.

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**A/N: Friendly reminder that you can suggest pairings and prompts for future installments! Length will vary. Review please! Thanks :)**


	5. Reawakening

**A/N: A guest reviewer said, ****"Everyone loves Henry and Charlotte" and hey, you can't argue with that! So here ya go! Takes place after Clockwork Princess.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing!**

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"Matthew, darling, please do not tinker with the wheel chair, as it is not to be played with!" Charlotte reprimanded her son, jumping from her place at her desk to find the toddler sticking his chubby fingers into the wheels of Henry's chair.

The red-haired man simply smiled, dimples and all, and reached down to pull his son into his lap. The boy giggled and hiccupped all at once, content to now explore his own mouth, satisfied on his father's legs.

Henry ruffled the boy's hair and peered over his son's head. "I think it is delightful, Lottie!" he announced joyfully. "Our son is taking an interest in inventions, and I presume it is because of my magnificent new chair. He should be praised, I say!"

Matthew spit out a few incoherent words, of which Charlotte only caught "Daddy", and "chair". His large eyes sparkled mischievously, and Charlotte could not help but swallow her innate sense of protection over their son, and instead replace it with a strong fondness at the sight of Matthew lying his head on his father's shoulder, eyes now beginning to droop with sudden exhaustion. Henry smiled once more and locked eyes with Charlotte, and their gazes held longer than normal. Something seemed to pass between them then, something she had not experienced with him in a long time.

She would discuss the dangerous matters of their son's antics eventually, but not just yet. Not just yet.

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**A/N: Thank you for the suggestions and reviews! Keep them coming while I work on the others, and do not be afraid to be specific on your requests! Thanks again!**


	6. Falling

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry I haven't updated recently, but I'm in college now so my updating will be very random (hence why I have not updated Shadow Self in FOREVER. Sorry!) **

**This prompt/pairing actually came from my mother xD She is a hardcore Sophie/Gideon shipper!**

**This takes place before CP2! I am working on a Will/Tessa and a Cecily/Gabriel and a Jem/Tessa one as well, so I am working as hard as I can! Thanks guys!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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He should have known better than to think she would not notice.

It was evident every moment of every hour that he spent training her, and though it breached all bounds of propriety, and Sophie herself knew that she would have much explaining to adhere to should they be caught, she did not admonish him.

Perhaps it was the subtle way his fingers would graze her wrist when he taught her how to position the throwing dagger (and then the not so subtle smile on his face when he removed his hand). Or maybe it was his arms, and how when they enfolded her in their embrace, they banished all foul memories of her previous employer. She had spent years believing that men were to be feared, and despite her sharp retorts to a certain blue-eyed Casanova at the Institute, she would often find herself flinching when he or Mr. Branwell raised their voices, even when not directed at her personally. In fact, it was Jem who convinced her that not all men were vicious, but that some could even be kind and gentle.

However, it was Gideon who showed her that there were even men who could see past beauty and marred faces. When he looked at her, his eyes did not travel to the scar that distorted her cheek, but locked with her own, and his words were always genuine and respectful—he actually valued her opinion and did not cut her off or patronize her like every other man she had met, save Jem.

But Jem, though benevolent and polite, did not view Sophie the way she had always seen him. He had eyes for another girl at the Institute, and Sophie even found herself supporting his feelings of late, instead of brimming with jealousy over them. And the only explanation she could think of for her sudden change of heart was now gazing at her with deep green eyes and—

"Sophie?"

She glanced up from her hands, which she was wringing nervously in front of her, and gave Gideon a small, apologetic smile. "I am sorry, Mr. Lightwood. You were saying?"

"I have asked you before, please, call me Gideon." The Shadowhunter bowed his head slightly, and Sophie bit her lip. It was simply a name, and yet it felt so profound and intimate. And how was it that she could say his last name so easily, but even the thought of taking a step forward and dropping formalities felt like taking a dive into some unknown abyss?

Gideon waved a small sword in front of her before moving to stand behind her, and Sophie could not ignore the heat she felt coming from his chest as it pressed into her back. He reached his arms around her and helped her grasp the weapon, and although he was giving her instruction, she heard nothing but his steady breathing and pounding heart as it matched in tune with her own.

Yes, he was well aware of the effect he had on her, and for once, she did not mind it.

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**A/N: Well, what do ya think? My mama liked it, so that's all that matters! Review/suggest a pairing or prompt and I will see you guys soon!**


	7. Finally Home

**A/N: Hey guys! Thank you for the reviews/favs/follows! Means a lot! Rest assured, I have seen your requests, and am working on them in between studying for college crap (yuck) and updating Shadow Self. In the meantime, have a heronstairs fic, taking place before TID, and about a year after Jem arrived at the London Institute.**

**Kiddie Will and Jem! You guys should recognize the ending from a story Jem told Tessa in TID :) Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: As usual, I own nothing but the plot I came up with for the fic!**

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It had been exactly one year since Jem had left Shanghai, and yet he could still remember the smoke of the city, the bustling of the crowds, the wind ruffling his hair as his mother pulled him from market to market to mingle with the mundanes. She had always believed the Nephilim should be less wary of the humans, and interact with them as their equals. Jem had come to share her belief.

He could still hear her voice sometimes in his dreams, calling out to him, begging for him to live. She would say his name and tell him that she loved him, as did his father.

Jem barely felt the tears brush his hand as he wept, oblivious to the cool air rushing in from outside, the moonlight revealing the water collecting on his skin. He took a deep breath and fell against the pillows, longing to hear his mother's voice just once more before he died. He had taken her love for granted.

_Should I live long enough to fall in love_, Jem vowed, _then I promise not to take her for granted, too. _

"James?"

The door creaked open, and Jem shot up with a start. Standing on the threshold, his clothes rumpled and his blue eyes wide and large, was Will, a small tray in his hands. He was wearing nightclothes that had clearly been slept in, and his black hair was tousled as if he had spent too long in the London wind, but his eyes were alert and fixed on Jem.

"What is it?" Jem asked, still slightly uneasy around Will. They had only known each other a year, and yet Jem felt like he had known the blue-eyed boy for much longer, as if their souls were already familiar with one another. He refused to say as much aloud, for fear of Will's response, as the boy had been known for his sharp retorts and honest insults. Jem dared to show Will that he was not like the others, and that Will's tongue would not break him, but sometimes, like tonight, Will's poisonous allure would strike just the slightest tinge of vulnerability into Jem's heart, and he would tremble.

He always welcomed Will's presence, however tonight he was decidedly unhappy to see him, and not for any other reason than the simple, embarrassing fact that he did not wish Will to see him crying like a child. _Oh, but you are a child, still,_ Jem reminded himself. _No matter how hard you've tried to grow up over the last year._

If he meant to show Will that he could not break, then the tears on his face were a sure sign of the contrary, and so Jem turned away abruptly, hastily wiping at his eyes as Will stepped into the room.

"All right, well, I do not usually do this," Will said slowly, and Jem caught the cautious way Will released his words, as if trying not to scare Jem off, or himself for that matter. "I never do this, actually. But I was wandering the Institute, as I do, and I thought I heard you in here, and you sounded like you were…well…" Will stopped and sighed.

Jem clenched his teeth in anger, at himself and the world. "What did you hear that led you to come into my room so late at night, William?"

He heard the slight shuffling of feet, and then Will was approaching him from the other side of the bed, his head bent low to find Jem's eyes. He placed a small silver tray onto the side-table and took a seat next to Jem on the mattress, a few inches separating them. Jem stole a glance at the table and was shocked to see a plate of scones and a cup of steaming liquid, probably tea, next to it. Had Will brought these for him?

"Call it instinct, but I thought you might want someone to talk to—not," Will added quickly, "that I care or anything."

_You care, you just will not admit it. How you think you fool me, Will, but I see right through you._

"Thank you, Will, but I do not wish to speak of it. It is only my family. I miss them is all."

Will nodded, his gaze oddly serious and, if Jem dared to guess, somewhat sympathetic. It shocked him to see Will this way, so caring and uncharacteristically shy. "You must be homesick," he remarked, and Jem saw the understanding lurking in his eyes.

"Yes," he admitted, "you could say that."

Will smiled then, and for once it was not in contempt or meant as a sneer to another, but simply to cheer up a friend, and Jem couldn't help but stare at him. "I know," he said, "I have heard you cry yourself to sleep for weeks now. It is rather annoying."

Jem supposed he could have been upset by this statement, but it only made him laugh softly. He reached for a scone as Will stuffed one hand into his pocket, sifting around for something Jem could not even guess at. Finally, Will cried out triumphantly and removed a small green object, holding it out to Jem in his shaking fingers. Jem glanced down at it in confusion.

"It's made out of jade. Jade comes from China, does it not?" Will asked, biting his lip. "I thought that perhaps…well, never mind. You know why I got it." His eyes fell to the ground, and Jem caught the slightest blush on his friend's cheeks.

"You bought this for me?" Jem was incredulous.

"I thought it looked really neat, like a fist. It reminded me of you, and it is jade, so…" Will ran a hand through his hair and nibbled on his own scone. He looked so uncomfortable that Jem could only reach out and place his own hand on Will's shoulder affectionately. Will tensed, but did not move.

"Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me," Jem said honestly. It was true, he had never thought Will capable of such wonderful thought, and for the first time since he arrived in London, Jem actually felt like he was at home.

Will, whether he knew it or not, had brought Jem home.

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**A/N: As always, feel free to review and suggest pairings and prompts! Thanks guys, and I will see you around!**


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